This could well be a politically incorrect post, and maybe admitting to more than I would in real life. Oh what the heck! thats what anonymous blogs are for.

So, I am sitting in a hugely lavish boardroom, with a wonderful view over Amsterdam, with five big men in black suits, blond hair and blue eyes, and did I forget to mention, about a feet taller than I am. I am supposed to be an active participant in their, or rather our, very important conversation, but my mind insists on wandering away. What the hell am I doing here? I mean, really. If we were part of an IQ test question to pick out odd one out (remember those questions they used to have on every damn test), this would by far be the easiest question. And in walks in a bright young chick carrying coffee and sandwiches, probably from Surinam - and somehow, I feel an odd connection. I could probably relate to her more than my five wonderful colleagues. At least, we could talk about PMS or bitch about boys, or maybe the great shoe shop down the street.

Before this turns out to be a random rant, I will inject it with some high flying scientific terms (pardon me for my rather ill-written posts these days, at the end of the day, this is just about all I can manage, and I really wanna keep this blog alive. Hopefully I will try and balance out with better quality in weekends). Anyways, back to what I was saying - apparently, its not just me. The whole syndrome is called a professional identity disorder. Where you can’t associate yourself with your job. Now, I am pretty sure I don’t have it, coz this was a rather rare moment, but I totally get it - I totally get why it would be hard for some people to fit into some jobs. And isn’t that a real pity? We are not talking about any kind of discrimination or anything, just a deep subconscious clash of identities, a clash that occurs because somehow we decided some identities go better with some jobs.

In an interview with Carrie Yang Costello, the author of “Professional Identity Crisis: Race, Class, Gender, and Success at Professional Schools”Scott McLemee of Inside Higher Ed, writes this:

“One of the most durable metaphors used in making sense of the world treats social life as a kind of theatrical performance. Each of us is playing a part — more or less comfortably, more or less convincingly — while burdened, often enough, by the need to improvise “in character.”

“This idea is more than a Shakespearean conceit. It’s implicit in the sociological notion of “role,” for example. And it also helps make sense of what happens when people learn to play that type known as “the professional” — a much-sought social role, usually accompanied by substantial benefits in income, and even more in prestige.

Essentially, what it means is that, we all think fit a role, or a character. And when our job deviates a lot from that character, then we have what they call PID (I am not sure anyone else uses that acronym). Here’s a short extract from Amazon’s summary of the book:

The fact that women and people of color tend to underperform at professional schools is a source of controversy. Conservatives blame affirmative action, while liberals blame intentional discrimination. The extensive research reported in Professional Identity Crisis belies both conspiracy theories.

(..) the disproportionate success of white men can be explained by the fact that they are more likely to acquire appropriate professional identities swiftly, with little inner conflict. Students from less privileged backgrounds, however, suffered from “identity dissonance.”
“For example, Jasmine, a Filipino student from Los Angeles, explained, “In the legal culture you have to adopt a different way of being, a different vocabulary and way to carry yourself . . . That’s how I got this far. And when I go home, if I act the way I do here, they won’t get it. My cousins and my friends say, ‘You’re kind of whitewashed.’ And when I come back here I have to get back my law style.”

So, what do we do? Sit back and let they world pass by. Oh hell, no! lets fix this identity crisis, shall we? Where are all the women in this country? Can they come to work please? Lets change the corporate diversity equation a bit, and add a discussion on the latest Gucci bags on every agenda!

Thats the big rhetoric . As for tomorrow, I will exchange a friendly smile with Martha, our coffee lady.

Update: I didn’t mean this to be a feminist post. Because I think its a broader issue. If anyone has any views on how a man of color fares in a largely European corporation or how a white man feels, say in an Indian company, I am all ears.

I am not sure what is the connection between elephants and Onam, but this should remind that I should advertise Thrissur pooram sometime - btw, its an event you have to experience at least once in your lifetime.

Wish everyone a very happy Onam, and next year, we should invite Mahabali to Europe - I hear he is not so welcome in some other places these days.

PS: If you don’t know what Onam is, check it out here

I find myself in London today! For the very first time!! Considering my sight seeing is limited to cab rides from airport to office to hotel to office and back to airport, I am in no position to write a lot about it. But it being my first trip and all, some random thoughts are warranted.

1. I can understand everything everywhere! People speak English! I just realised that I haven’t been to a country where English is widely spoken for a very very long time. People don’t hate me here, just because they have to speak a different language for me! I could whoop for joy!

2. They drive on the right, right as in correct, side of the road! I mean, whoever thought up driving on the right hand side of the road!

3. Its past midnight,I am eating a lovely meal of chicken tikka, mini papads and mango chutney, which is one of the few foods available 24 hours. And the TV is playing something bollywood-ish! How much more closer to home can I get?

4. Every other person I asked for directions on the road ( I went to get coffee mid day and promptly got lost) today spoke in a different accent. Cosmopolitanism, do you have a better spokesperson?

5. I love the cabs! And the cabbies! I got a 30 minute crash course on London’s history and the development to Eastend from docklands to a residential place. And the best part is, he didn’t drop me off at the wrong place and give the excuse that he didn’t understand me. You see, he speaks English! Oh, have I said that before?

Enough of delirious posting! People who live in lands where they know what is going on, don’t judge me till you have had to bribe your neighbours to read letters from your insurer! Now, let me try and figure out what the Sardar on my TV is ranting about!

East or west, Home is the best. Is it really?

Readers of this blog and my previous one would know that I have, many a time, talked about missing my family, my home country, and everything related to it - nothing special, just your typical expat rant. The reasons are obvious - imagine that you are in a far away land, and you miss the culture you were brought up in, the people you love and even the sense of belonging which is never complete in another place - what else would your favourite topic be? But truth remains that I am still a nomad who still doesn’t seriously consider going home for good. What is it that keeps me here, in a foreign land, despite all the obvious reasons?

When I first left home, it was a sense of adventure. Maybe, adventure is not the right word. Curiosity, perhaps. The feeling of not knowing what lies ahead. The joy of embarking on a path where the destination is not clear. To break away from everything that you once thought you would do, and carve out your own path in the world. To pluck yourself out from your comfortable surroundings and throw yourself into the world of the unknown. Do you remember the song, “Confidence” in Sound of Music, that Maria sings on her way to the abbey to the Von Trapp house for the first time? If airlines officials would let me skip and sing, perhaps I would have sang the same words too:

“What will this day be like? I wonder.
What will my future be? I wonder.
It could be so exciting to be out in the world, to be free
My heart should be wildly rejoicing..”

As I grew up past the irrational teens and became more comfortable with my place in the world, childish curiosity gave way to someting else. The sense of adventure didn’t exactly fade away, but it wasn’t curiosity and adventure that led me on. It was a sense of freedom. The freedom to be away from everything. The freedom to do what you want. The freedom to know that your actions are your concern and only yours. The ultimate sense of unaccountability, if you may. Let me not glorify it - the honest truth may be that it is just a run-away attitude. If you could empathize with Kate in Lost, when Tom tells her, “You always want to run away, Katie”, you know what I mean. After I had lived for several years, in what I call my first stop , I had reached a point in life where I couldn’t walk in the city center without meeting someone who knew someone who knew someone I knew. Somehow, the place doesn’t feel foreign anymore, when that happens. And it was time to run.

The amazing feeling of walking into a place where you know absolutely no one, where you are as anonymous as the dust on the ground, where without the passport in your bag or the dog tag on your neck, post-mortem identification would be an impossible feat - that feeling, if you don’t know it yet, is one you want to experience, at least every now and then.

When you roam the streets with abandon
With no one to call on, no one to meet,
Is it left or right? up or down?
Lets decide at the toss of a dice.

When every stranger is your friend,
When every friend is a stranger,
What is heaven, what is earth?
When all around you is paradise.

Age brings with it, pragmatism. Reality and responsibility eventually nudge their way into the reluctant and well guarded fortress and claim their space. Nostalgia is a sign of leaving your youth behind. And you miss home. You find yourself with questions to be answered. Thoughts to be thought. Why am I here? Do I belong? Should I go home? Philosophy gives way to practicality. When the scales of the world are tipping, when the land of opportunity is calling, what is that still keeps in the old world? The answer is not so easy anymore, but I am still here. And here’s why.

(To be continued)